


Obviously John

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Confessions, First Time, Loneliness, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 12:52:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1227046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock never misses anything especially when it comes to John acting strange. John doesn't realise what he is feeling and soon things at 221B Baker Street will never be the same again!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Normal?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing so please be nice! I will try to post as often as I can sorry if I am ever late :) Please enjoy and leave me a comment or kudos if you want.

It was as normal as a day could be in 221B Baker Street. London was awake and already busy. Taxis were rushing; business workers checking their watches while frantically running to catch the next tube; the atmosphere was full of worries and stress.

John gradually awoke to the sound of the muffled London traffic below his window. He pulled his cotton dressing gown over his grey, checked pyjama bottoms and matching grey t-shirt. John always tried to make an effort with his appearance, but today was his day off from working and he felt comfort should outweigh appearance. He descended from his bedroom into the cold, empty living room. It was cluttered with science equipment and experiments that he knew he would never understand.

He popped the kettle on and placed two slices of bread into the toaster. He couldn’t believe Sherlock was still asleep. Normally he would be bouncing about the apartment or composing a beautiful new melody that John would smile to himself upon hearing. Living at Baker Street made John have to rethink what was actually allowed to be considered normal as nothing ever was when concerning Sherlock.

Suddenly, interrupting his thoughts completely Sherlock exited his bedroom. He sported his smooth, red silk dressing robe (one in which made John very happy) and his tailored pale blue shirt and body hugging black suit trousers. Sherlock always took pride in his appearance and all the clothes he wore (even pyjamas) were expensive, designer brands or tailored to suit his body completely. John had only once seen him wearing baggy jeans and a t-shirt, but that was for a case where they had to go undercover as unemployed Londoners.

 Sherlock’s hair was ruffled and looked even more curly than usual. His black mop was repelling from his head like positive and negative particles (a reference John thought was appropriate due to his friend’s massive intellect).

Sherlock made his way over to John in the kitchen and was uncomfortably close to him as he watched John spread strawberry jam on the slices of toast.

“What are you doing, Sherlock?” John asked.

There was no reply from the younger man as he strutted over and collapsed onto the sofa, his whole body covering the full length of it. Although John did not find this unusual as Sherlock rarely replied to him in the morning. It always amused him that Sherlock could go a week without sleeping or eating, but he would not talk to you in the morning.

John carefully set the plate of toast and a cup of tea on the coffee table beside Sherlock and sat down on his armchair. He grabbed the mornings’ newspaper and started to read all the ‘exciting’ things currently going on in the world.

Sherlock lay there deep in thought when he finally reached for the toast. He smelt it and set it down slowly.

“Not going to eat it then?” A voice across the room spoke.

“Digesting slows me down.” A husky, exhausted voice replied.

“Well you have to eat something, Sherlock.”

A pause from Sherlock made John look up from his newspaper perplexed. Sherlock bored his eyes into John’s body almost reading him like a book. His deathly stare made a shiver go down John’s back.

“Why?” Sherlock finally spoke.

“Wha-What? Why what?”

“Why do you care? I don’t get it, why would it bother you?”

John paused, caught completely surprised. He always wanted to tell Sherlock how much he meant to him but he thought the machine would have no feelings towards it and push John’s emotions aside. John spoke softly, “What do you mean? I care about your health and well-being.”

“Well I once went three days without food so I wouldn’t care that much.”

“Sherlock, please eat something. I don’t want you fainting in front of Lestrade at a crime scene again.”

“That was one time, John” Sherlock replied slightly offended that John would bring up such an embarrassing moment.

“Well don’t let it happen again. Okay?”

Sherlock quickly grabbed the back of his dressing gown to be able to do a dramatic turn on the sofa. Although he would never say it, John always found Sherlock’s huffs adorable and hilarious. But when Sherlock was in a huff John never spoke to him until he came around again because it’s like trying to calm down a dragon when he does.

 

John and Sherlock spent the morning together in the living room. Sherlock had turned around about 5 minutes after his sulk as he couldn’t bare John’s silence and wanted more attention. Sherlock was like a little puppy always needing attention. John was quite happy just admiring the man and all of his beauty. John was always confused about Sherlock. He didn’t know much about him because he never asked Sherlock about his life. His family. His friends. His childhood. He always wondered if something had gone terribly wrong in his younger years and that what caused him to be so... well Sherlock.

However, Sherlock knew a lot about John. This wasn’t because they had heart-to-heart conversations, but it was because Sherlock was cursed with a gift that made him able to read everything about a person before they even say ‘hello’. Sherlock knew most things about John Watson but was still interested in him. He didn’t know why because normally when he knew a lot about a person he lost interest like a child. But no. John Watson was different. He didn’t know why and quite frankly he refused to think he did. John Watson was definitely a mystery to him, one he thought he could never solve.

Suddenly interrupting both of their trails of thoughts Sherlock’s phone rang. Sherlock proceeded to get up but John waved him down and picked it up for him.

“Hello.”

_“Hello is this Sherlock?”_ A man with a London accent spoke.

“No it’s John, who is speaking?”

_“Lestrade. We’ve got a case for him if he wants to come down to Barts.”_

“He’ll be there soon.” John replied and hung up.

“Why did you say I would be right there? I don’t even know if the case is worth my time.” Sherlock asked annoyed.

“Well I think a case would be good for you at the moment. Take your mind off of things.” John simply spoke.

“What things? I’m perfectly fine.”

“You just took a huff because I told you to eat.”

“I don’t like it when people tell me what to do. I like being the dominant one.”

A shiver went up John’s back as he thought about Sherlock liking to be dominant. He didn’t really understand his emotions when he was around Sherlock.  His palms would get sweaty and his cheeks would turn red. He was sure Sherlock noticed because Sherlock notices everything. That made John’s heart pound in his chest. “Well I worry about you Sherlock.” John added his voice weaker than he had hoped.

“You shouldn’t get so attached.” Sherlock said quietly as he rose and walked to his bedroom to get ready for the day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the positive feedback. I know it has only been up since this morning, but I just wrote a small continuation, if you want me to continue with this work and add more chapters please comment and tell me. Thank you :) all feedback is welcome!

It was around 2pm when they finally reached the crime scene Lestrade had shown them. It was a man found dead on the roof of a bank. John was confused and for a moment he thought Sherlock was too until he opened his mouth and spoke almost inhumanly fast. When Sherlock did his deductions he spoke so quickly and expected people to be able to keep up with the pace.

“...so that is why you have to arrest the bank manager. It was obviously him.” Sherlock finished. It was the only part John could actually make sense of.

"Obviously?" John questioned, confused.

"Yes, obviously John," Sherlock replied. You could sense the boredom and impatience in his tone.

“Right. Okay. And you’re sure about this?” Lestrade asked carefully, unaware as to how Sherlock reached that baffling conclusion.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be sure?” Sherlock asked with a hint of smugness.

He suddenly looked at John with pale blue/green eyes and signalled that it was time to leave. John quickly snapped out of the confusion and followed Sherlock down to the lobby of the building and onto the road.

Sherlock lead John down the street and called a taxi. They both entered the taxi and John tried to speak to ask if the detective was okay but he was pushed aside in Sherlock’s mind as he tried to think.

Sherlock said to the driver “221B Baker Street.”

As Sherlock returned to a comfortable position in the chair he brushed up against John and they were pushed together in the back of the cab. John’s hands became sweaty again and his breathing hitched and heart pounded in his chest. He couldn’t describe the feeling and he didn’t want to know out of fear that it might be the answer he thought.

Although John could barely tell Sherlock seemed to be different. Sherlock had gone extremely quiet which was unusual after he solved a case. Normally he would be bragging about his knowledge and explaining to John just how he came to the baffling conclusion. But no Sherlock was quiet. John could tell he was thinking and refused to interrupt him, but he didn’t understand what he was thinking about. Clearly he already solved the crime and he was certain about it. So why would he be thinking about the case? There was obviously something else. Something else that made Sherlock go completely out of character.

 

As they pulled up Sherlock quickly exited the vehicle and left John to pay the cabbie. John didn’t argue as clearly Sherlock wasn’t himself. He handed the man the money and ascended the steps into the flat.

Sherlock looked back at John with studying eyes, he was unsure that what he thought could actually have been true. He then turned, walked into the flat and closed the door behind him.

As soon as John entered the flat his whole body was shoved into the wall. He couldn’t see his attacker as he was disoriented. He didn’t know what was happening. He thought he was going to die. But where was Sherlock?

As he cleared his head and vision he saw the face of his attacker.

“Sherlock! What the hell are you doing? Get off of me!” John shouted at the strong detective holding him against the wall.

“John what is wrong?” Sherlock responded.

“What are you talking about? There’s nothing wrong,” John replied confused.

“Your hands sweat when in my presence. You blush whenever I speak to you. You cannot sit still when I am near you. What is wrong? Is there something wrong with me?” Sherlock’s voice kept getting weaker and weaker as he spoke, but he couldn’t get the words out the way he wanted.

“What? Sherlock there is nothing wrong with you,” John replied.

“Then why do you act so strangely around me?”

“Sherlock, can we talk upstairs?” John asked unsure of what to do.

 

They entered the living room to their flat and John and Sherlock sat down on their signature and famous armchairs.

Sherlock seemed agitated and couldn’t keep still. John had never seen the man so nervous and he didn’t know why he was worried. Obviously there was nothing wrong with him and John wanted to tell him that. But how could he without revealing his own emotions?

Sherlock was nervous. Of course he knew there wasn’t anything wrong with him and he knew what was going on. All the signs point to John being attracted to Sherlock. Sherlock knew this and it terrified him. Sherlock had never found anyone attractive... until John came along. All the feelings of love were completely new to him and he didn’t know how he should act around John.

“Sherlock,” John started.

“John I think I know what is going on and I think I should start then.” Sherlock replied unsure.

“Oh, okay,” John stated confused.

“John... I.... ah... I don’t really know how to say this. I... ah... I never had a friend or a colleague or anyone who was close to me before. I always thought relationships with people were pointless and a waste of time. I didn’t think anyone could ever put up with me. Yes I did just admit I am a handful I know. But I don’t care I always thought no one would change my thought on people and their way of thinking, but I now see that I was very wrong. And yes I did just say I was wrong and I will not repeat it. Ever. The thing is John... you are my...,” he hesitated, “my best friend. And never before have I said that to anyone. I didn’t have many friends growing up. People thought I was a freak and my only friend was my dog. I thought maybe people would like me better when I grow up and meet adults. But again people thought I was a psychopath because I was interested in crime. There was a time when I would have agreed with them, that is why I am very sensitive about people calling me a psychopath. I knew from the moment you walked into that lab that you were different. I deduced you and instead of being offended and scared you were amazed and fascinated. No one ever treated me the way you do and I doubt anybody will. So there. I was so alone until you came along.” Sherlock was so close to being moved by what he had said.

John couldn’t believe what he had just heard come out of the detective’s mouth. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. John was astounded by what Sherlock told him. The silence was awkward but it was with good reason as Sherlock just told John he was his best friend and actually showed some emotion.

“John. John. Are you okay?” Sherlock asked quite concerned about John.

“What? Yeah of course,” John said his voice breaking.

“Well are you not going to tell me?” Sherlock asked.

“Huh? Tell you what?” John answered with another question.

Sherlock sighed. “That you are in love with me?”

John froze. John put together all his emotions and realised that it was a logical assumption. But no just no. John was straight. How could he have feelings for another man?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” John replied unconvincingly.

Sherlock studied him. “Yes you love me. All the signs are there, John. Even you couldn’t be that blind not to see them.”

“Right just shut up. Shut up right now,” John replied angrily.

“Look I know ‘you’re straight you’re not gay’ I know but still sweaty palms, nervous around me and your body language changes when I am near. How else do you explain that?”

“I told you to shut up!” John screamed. Then suddenly he crashed his mouth onto Sherlock’s and grabbed his black curls, tugging on them hard. Sherlock was shocked and didn’t know what to do. He had never had someone advance on him like that before and he froze. He then followed his instinct and kissed John back. He moved his hands up slowly to cup John’s face and neck.

Sherlock’s tongue licked John’s lips and John let out a moan. Sherlock, seeing his opportunity shoved his tongue into the doctor’s mouth, deepening the kiss. Sherlock and John both moaned in response to the pleasure.

John ripped his mouth from Sherlock’s to catch his breath. He gazed up at the man. Sherlock was quite a sight to behold. His eyes were dark and full of lust and desire. His messy hair was ruffled and now looked like a poodle, which John thought was still undeniably alluring. His shirt was unbuttoned more than usual and the bulge in his trousers spoke volumes.

John blushed at embarrassment as to what just happened. Sherlock sensed this and cupped his cheek.

“What’s wrong?” Sherlock asked, his voice full of lust and concern.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” John said, embarrassed.

“Why are you apologising?”

“Because obviously you don’t feel the same way about me. You told me that I was your best friend and I kissed you. You only think of me as a friend and I went and fucked that up,” John said trying to hold back the tears.

“You honestly think that?”

“Well... yes.”

Sherlock grabbed John and kissed him deeply pushing him in the armchair, towering over him. John felt the bulge in Sherlock’s trousers against his thigh. Sherlock pushed up against him and the contact went straight to his crotch.


End file.
